It's Time

When Death Comes

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

~ Mary Oliver ~

I have an amazing friend named Bentley who has changed my world in ways small and great.  Last night was his final "Pub Theology," a gathering of friends who like to talk about deep matters and drink beer.  This was his final gathering because he is off to San Francisco to finish divinity school and follow his dreams.  Unfortunately, I am a big part of the reason why they are leaving.  We had lay-offs at my company and we laid off his wife, freeing them to go.  I did coaching with her to help her figure out her "what's next."  And I met with both of them to coach them through the hurdles that stood in the way between here and that dream of San Francisco.  So it's partly my fault and I am so sad to see them go but I am way more proud of them for jumping. 

We had way too many beers last night (don't most great stories start that way) and Bentley was feeling the love.  But instead of making it about him, he turned to a few of us there and issued challenges to us.  He wanted us to carry our gifts forward.  The poem above was the focus of his message.  The first time I heard this poem, I heard it to be all about death.  But the second time, I heard it to be all about life--and that it is.  Bentley said it wasn't enough to just have the amazing gifts that he felt that we had; instead in order to live our fullest, we need to share them in active, creative ways (ok, now I'm paraphrasing--and turning this into what I got from it rather than exactly what he said). 

My life has been on the more chaotic side and I haven't had the bandwidth to think beyond my little family (which, in some cases, was appropriate), but I'm looking to get beyond that and I want to go out bolder.  Maybe it's through the exercise group I just set up through church after my sermon on the body last week.  Or maybe I start my Moving Forward classes again.  And I definitely help continue Pub Theology.  And maybe I do the "Salon Dinners" I've been dreaming about for years (invite some of the few fascinating people I know in my life--who don't know each other--and let the conversations flow!).  Or maybe something else that I haven't realized yet.

But, he's right; it's time.  It's time to stop obsessing over children (okay, that's a big wish) and start focusing on me a bit more and giving a platform for this beautiful new self I'm making.  To be a bride, married to amazement and a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.  It's time.